Caught By Catastrophe
by Melissa2
Summary: The sequel to Parallel Lines. Margaret has a serious problem to deal with that only seems to get worse, and a torn Harper tries to decide what to do about it.


Title: Caught By Catastrophe  
Author: Melissa, aka ILH  
Series/Sequel: 2 out of 3, maybe 4...who really knows?  
Censor: PG-13  
Content Warnings: A little blood here, some language there, etc.  
Central Characters: Harper, Margaret  
Spoilers: Nothing major, tiny ones that you probably won't even notice  
Author's Note: There shall be more soon.  
Disclaimer: Andromeda characters and the like belong to Tribune  
Claimer: Margaret and the like belongs to me (actually, you can use her if you feel the urge to, I don't really care)  
  
  
  
Harper had been working on the slipstream drive for hours. Nothing he did seemed to fix the problem. They actually needed a replacement part, and nothing he could juryrig would change that fact. He was practically upside down with a nanowelder in one hand, another tool in his mouth, trying to pull a saudering wand from his toolbelt. Needless to say it wasn't cooperating.  
  
"Damn!" he tried to mutter with the tool still in his mouth.  
  
"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to talk with your mouth full?" Rommie's avatar asked from above him.  
  
He mumbled back a frustrated response that she couldn't make out, and she assumed it was best that way from his tone.  
  
"Give me the nanowelder," Rommie commanded.   
  
Harper complied, handing her the tool and pulling the other tool from his mouth. He thrust it towards her while holding onto the bar. "Thanks."  
  
"There are billions of bacteria and viruses on that." She crinkled her nose.  
  
He wiped the still wet tool off on his cargo pants and tossed it up towards Rommie. "Catch!"  
  
She stepped aside, letting the tool clatter onto the deckplate. "How are the repairs coming?"  
  
"We need new parts," he said frankly. "These aren't going to work even with everything I've done."   
  
"We're two days from the nearest planet with the-"  
  
"I know that. And I'm not done yet. The Harper never gives up." He flipped over the bar, almost losing something from his toolbelt. He grasped it tightly in one hand during his climb back up.  
  
"What is that in your hand?" Rommie asked.  
  
"It's a gift from someone." He was quick to change the subject. "Now, as for those repairs, I'm starving and I've already got one mother of a caffeine withdrawl headache thanks to the fact you've forbidden me to have Sparkies around the slipstream drive anymore. I swear didn't spill any in the slipstream drive."  
  
"You've been working six straight hours. You may go take a break while I inform Dylan on the slipstream drive's status," Rommie said.  
  
Harper waited until Rommie had exited Engineering to open his hand and stare at its contents. "Anything is possible," he said to himself as he stared at the locket, his mind racing with ideas for the repairs. "Margaret, my dear, I think I've come up with a plan to fix the slipstream drive." He grinned, forgetting all about his break, and started working on the slipstream drive again.  
  
*****  
  
In less than three hours, the slipstream drive was operational again, and Andromeda was en route to the nearest planet to buy replacement parts. Harper had found himself thinking more and more about Margaret, which had eventually brought him to Rev's quarters. He rang the door chime and waited.  
  
The door slid open, revealing Rev. "Master Harper."  
  
"Hey, Rev, I was just wondering. You remember Margaret, right?" Harper asked.  
  
"Of course. I heard from her father only last week." His tone turned grave.  
  
"Is she okay?" Harper's voice revealed his worry.  
  
"She is well, but I am afraid her father is not. He has recently discovered he has a terminal illness."  
  
"How long has he got left?"  
  
"He will become one with the Divine very soon."   
  
"How's Margaret taking the news?"  
  
"He did not mention it in his message. May the Divine be with them both, especially Margaret. Her father accepts what nears, but I fear Margaret will not understand."  
  
"Where are they right now?"   
  
"They have remained at the retreat for the past few months. Do you wish to send her a message?"  
  
"You read my mind, Rev. Do you have the info so I can send her something?"  
  
Rev gave Harper the information, and Harper quickly headed off to his quarters.  
  
*****  
  
Harper paced his quarters, wondering what he was supposed to say to Margaret. He wondered if she even remembered who he was at all. Before long, he was afraid he was going to drive himself insane over it. "Just do it, Harper."  
  
He pressed the record button on the communications console. "Hey, Margaret. In case you don't remember, I'm Harper from Andromeda. Or even if you do remember and hate your old crushes like most girls and you're already calling me the biggest jerk on this side of the galaxy, please bear with me and keep listening. What I've got to say is important. Anyways, I just heard the news about your dad from Rev. I'm really sorry. I know what it's like to lose your parents. If Andromeda were closer, I'd come and tell you this face to face. Maybe we will be before long. You can never tell with Dylan and his Commonwealth restoration thing. But hang in there, okay? I know how hopeless it can be, but for what it's worth, I'll be thinking about you."   
  
He turned off the console, removed the data rod and gave the message to the next courier Andromeda encoutered.  
  
*****  
  
A few months had felt like years to Margaret. As she had spent more and more time the Wayist retreat, she realized it wasn't the place for her to be. Then, shortly before she had promised herself to tell her father about her decision, he had been diagnosed with a terminal neurological disease, one that took its victims quickly.   
  
Margaret had done nothing but lay in dark silence since she had discovered her father would die very soon. She had locked herself in her room and contemplated her own death many times. Somehow, life seemed to lose its meaning after she had discovered there was more to it than Wayism.   
  
The door chime rang for the first time in a couple of days, and she immediately screamed, "Go away!"  
  
"The courier brought a data rod for you," a voice said from outside.  
  
She groaned and scampered across the room. The light from outside practically blinded her as she snatched the data rod from the Wayist monk. She closed the door behind her and locked it again. "Who would send me a message?" she wondered aloud. "I haven't received any since I got here."  
  
Her curiousity bested her other emotions, and she played the data rod. She was shocked that it was Harper. She placed her fingers on his face as he comforted her through the message. His last words hit her the most, "But for what it's worth, I'll be thinking about you."  
  
"It's worth a lot more than you realize," she said to his image. "I don't want to die if you're thinking about me still...I've missed you so much." The tears welled up in her eyes. "I have to live through this somehow. I can't give up yet..."  
  
Less than five minutes later, there was another knock at her door. "I have come to deliver some news."  
  
*****  
  
Harper had been to Rev's quarters more in the past few days than in the entire year before it. Rev had promised to tell Harper any news he received concerning Margaret or her father.  
  
"Rev! I just thought about something. Where's Margaret's mother?" Harper asked, catching up to Rev in the corridor.  
  
"She did not survive childbirth. Margaret's only living relative is her father," Rev replied.  
  
"What's she going to do once her father dies? Where's she going to go?"  
  
"I do not know. She may remain at the Wayist retreat and follow in her father's footsteps."  
  
"But what if she doesn't wanna do that? I mean she's got nowhere to go..."  
  
"Are you proposing we provide her a temporary home until she comes to a decision?"  
  
Harper paused. "I guess I am," he eventually said. "Do you think Dylan will go for it?"  
  
"I believe Dylan will do what is right." Rev seemed confident of that fact. Harper really hoped Rev was right.  
  
*****  
  
Margaret opened the door to reveal the same monk that had visited her not fifteen minutes before. "Your father joined the Divine several hours ago," the monk said gently.  
  
She just nodded in acknowledgement and gulped. "When will the services be?"  
  
"Tomorrow at dawn, but the wake is tonight. Would you like to join us in the sanctuary for prayer?"  
  
"I'll be there in a little while," she lied. "I have some personal mourning to do."  
  
"I understand. Thank you." He bowed his head to her and walked down the corridor.   
  
She watched him turn the corner before closing the door. She did all she could to remain apathetic while she tossed her things into a satchel. It was of great disrespect to her father, but she wouldn't attend the services at dawn or the wake. No Wayist persuasion would sway her choice.   
  
She opened the window in her room and climbed out. After sneaking around the perimeter, she stood on her toes to peer into the sanctuary window. Her father's lifeless body lay on an altar in full Wayist garb. As she stared, she whispered, "Goodbye daddy."   
  
With the image of her father on that altar deeply etched into her mind, she sprinted off into the night.  
  
*****  
  
Harper had begun building a new slipstream warning system, in case the new parts started wearing out. Five minutes into his work, he had mindlessly started staring blankly at the table top. His thoughts remained across the galaxy, at that Wayist retreat. He wondered why he was incessantly worrying about someone that he had met briefly, for only a couple of days.  
  
"Master Harper, I just received the news of Margaret's father joining the Divine. It happened less than eight hours ago," Rev said from behind Harper.  
  
Harper was startled from his thoughts and quickly turned around. "That's one fast courier. I guess now is the time to ask Dylan, huh?"  
  
"I believe you should make the request."  
  
"Why me?" Harper asked. "You're a lot better at talking with Dylan and convincing him to do stuff."  
  
"You were most eager for Margaret's departure before, which I am certain Dylan will take into consideration. He will realize how important this is to you," Rev explained.  
  
Harper realized Rev was, as usual, right. "Well, Dylan, here I come."  
  
*****  
  
Margaret ran towards the ocean, following the soft roar of the late evening tides. The only sounds that could be heard were the gentle whispers of the maritime breeze. When the ocean was nearly in view, she felt compelled to turn around, as if she were being followed. A line of torch lights flickered in the distance.  
  
"I'd better see who it is," she whispered to herself. She hid in some bushes and waited.  
  
The footsteps grew closer, and as they passed, she could see shadows dancing on the faces of familiar monks. Since they weren't calling her name or searching, she assumed their procession was a portion of a ritual. The last monk stopped near the bush she was hiding in. He cocked his head and closed his eyes.  
  
"Margaret, you are more than welcomed to join us. It is not necessary for you to secretly follow us," the monk said.  
  
Margaret stopped breathing and remained still before the monk took a few steps forward. Then, she found she had no choice but to utilize the adrenaline pumping through her body. She sprinted off in the opposite direction of the monk.   
  
"Margaret!" he yelled after her.  
  
She ran harder, approaching the only place that she thought might conceal her from a search party--the forest. The stories she had heard of monks being eaten by the forest 'demons' told by the fishmongers at the shores echoed through her mind. She kept running until she started tripping over the thicker foliage. She had run out of breath and energy.   
  
Before long, the heat she felt due to her exertion was replaced by the actual temperature of the forest at night. "I should've waited until morning," Margaret said to herself, shivering in the biting cold.  
  
She found herself lost deep in the pitch black of the forest and regretted not following her instincts. Even though she had no clue where she was headed, she continued treading carefully through the maze of roots, tangled vines and small creatures of the night that called out in shrill voices when approached too closely.   
  
She eventually bumped into a large rock covered in moss. "Looks like somewhere to rest to me." She threw her satchel on top of the rock and pulled herself up.   
  
*****  
  
Harper rang the door chime of Dylan's quarters.  
  
"Come in, Mr. Harper," Dylan said.  
  
Harper entered the entry room to find Dylan sitting in a chair, reading a flexi.  
  
"Have a seat." Dylan gestured at the chair opposite his. "What can I do for you?"   
  
Harper sat down. "I was wondering if I could ask a sort of favor. I promise I'll make it up to you and then some, and you can trust me," Harper rambled on.  
  
"Slow down. What kind of favor do you want?"  
  
"Well, remember Rev's friend, Margaret?"  
  
Dylan nodded. "What about her?"  
  
"Her dad just died, and he's her only living relative. And I thought she might like somewhere to stay for a little while to think about what she's going to do now..."  
  
"And you want that place to be Andromeda?"  
  
"Yeah. I mean she got along with most of us really well, and I was-"  
  
"Feeling guilty for what happened last time?"  
  
Harper paused for a moment. "Yeah."  
  
"Any other time I would have no objection to having a guest aboard, but we have to be punctual to the conference on Eltauran." Dylan watched Harper for a moment. "But once the conference is finished and the Commonwealth charter is signed, you can invite Margaret to stay."  
  
"Thanks, Boss." Harper stood.  
  
"And Mr. Harper?"  
  
"Yeah?" Harper leaned on the chair.  
  
"One more person only makes seven people aboard, and that's nothing compared to four thousand. Don't worry about repaying the favor."  
  
Harper half smiled and left Dylan's quarters.   
  
*****  
  
"Itches," Margaret mumbled as she scratched her face and arms, not bothering to open her eyes. She was too tired, and the monks would wake her if they needed her. Suddenly, the realization came to her that her bed at the retreat wasn't so hard. It also wasn't so noisy, so full of the sounds of nature.   
  
She opened her eyes hesistantly. She saw large ants crawling by her face and all around her. She instinctively pushed herself to her feet and started jumping up and down on top of the rock. The ants clung to her skin and clothing, biting her occasionally.  
  
"Get off of me!" she exclaimed as she grabbed her satchel and climbed down. She used the satchel to smash some of the ants, but there were too many to kill.  
  
The sounds of running water in the distance very much appealed to her. She scrambled over the plants and whatnot through the morning towards the source of the sound. "It can't be much farther," she said to herself. "It is getting louder, isn't it? Or maybe it's just these ants crawling into my ears and deafening me."  
  
The small creek came into view over the trees. She started running towards it as the foliage thinned. The water was murky, but didn't look very deep. After tossing her satchel on the sand, she jumped in the water and rolled around, submerging herself and watching as the black ants flowed downstream.  
  
She felt cleansed of the ants after fifteen minutes in the water and walked out of the creek. "I need to change into something a little drier," she said to herself. She had brought a single change of clothes and a nightgown with her.   
  
She started squeezing the water from her hair when she noticed a slimy presence on her head. "What is that?"  
  
*****  
  
Rev received another message from the courier of the retreat. He placed the data rod in a communications console in his quarters. He watched the message silently. It began with footage of the wake and led into footage of the dawn services. He immediately noticed that Margaret was not in either.  
  
"How strange. The next of kin is always involved," Rev said.  
  
The end of the message was from a monk that Rev had met several times. "Rev, since I am certain you are wondering, Margaret did not want to participate in her father's services. She disappeared last night, but I would not worry. The Divine is with her, and she shall return to us soon."  
  
Rev deliberated whether or whether not to tell Harper. He decided it was best to wait until there was more information on the matter. "It is possible that Margaret is hiding within the walls of the temple. The temple is a large building. Young Harper has quite enough to worry about without creating unwarranted ones."   
  
*****  
  
Margaret carefully removed the slimy presence from her hair. It took her a moment to recognize the creature. "Oh my gosh! It's a leech!"  
  
She heaved the leech onto the ground and stomped on it several times. "If I have one..." She frantically stripped, throwing her clothes left and right.   
  
She discovered two leeches in her immediate sight, on her leg and on her stomach. After quickly removing and killing them, she searched the rest of her body and found four more. The last three had actually attached themselves to her body.  
  
"That was disgusting." She cringed at the thought of the leeches as she dressed in dry clothing. "Between the leeches and the ants, I'm never touching those clothes again."  
  
She flung her satchel over her shoulder and followed the creek. It was much easier than trekking through the dense forest, and she assumed it would eventually lead to a larger body of water, which in turn eventually drained into the ocean.  
  
"You may have a few ant bites and leech marks, but at least you're alive," she said to herself. "That creek could have had pirahnas or crocs. And those ants could have been poisonous spiders. It can always be worse."  
  
The creek, instead of growing wider or leading into a river, grew narrow. She had already traveled miles, and thought it would be a waste to not follow it to the end. At the creek's end, she found herself surrounded by a wall of forest on three sides and the creek behind her.   
  
"Going upstream would end in this same result," she said to herself with a frustrated sigh. "Maybe it's just a little ways through the forest to the ocean..."  
  
She forced her way back into the dense foliage once more.  
  
*****  
  
Harper sat on his bed, staring at his surfboard, which was leaned against the wall opposite him. He was reminded of teaching Margaret to surf using his bed as a wave. It brought a grin to his face for a moment. The grin was soon replaced by the worried expression he wore more often than not since he had learned of what had happened to Margaret's father.  
  
"I need to do something," he said to himself, hopping to his feet.  
  
He entered the corridor and just started walking, with no particular destination. On his way, he passed the gym and saw Tyr working out, doing pull-ups with one arm. "I wonder how he can do that without being layed up for weeks afterwards," Harper said softly.  
  
"It has required years of conditioning and training," Tyr responded.  
  
This surprised Harper. "Ummmmmmmm sorry for interrupting you. I'll be going now."  
  
"No. Stay, boy." Tyr continued doing the pull-ups.  
  
Harper was more surprised but took several steps into the room. "Any particular reason you want me to stay?"  
  
"You have been torturing yourself over Margaret," Tyr said. "Why?"  
  
Harper paused. "Well, she's a friend. You look out for your friends..."  
  
"But that isn't all she is. You want to take her as your mate," Tyr said matter-of-factly.  
  
"I dunno who's been talking to you, but I haven't ever said that or-"  
  
"It is true, though." Tyr dropped from the pull-up bar and approached the shorter man.  
  
"You do know what happened when she was here last time, don't you?"  
  
"Yes, I'm well aware of the events surrounding her departure. But you have obviously changed your mind."  
  
"Nope, but I do want to see her again. Things for me aren't about finding mates and having twenty wives."  
  
"Your motives remain obvious, but you can continue deluding yourself and hiding from the truth like a coward."  
  
Harper tried not to be angered by that. "Okay, Mister All-Mighty Nietzchean, what am I supposed to do?"  
  
"The first thing that you must do is find her. After that, how you approach her is up to you. But don't allow anyone to stand in your way."  
  
"Ooooooo-kay. I'll ummmmm think about that." Harper turned around to exit the gym but felt a strong grip on his shoulder hampering his efforts to leave.  
  
The Nietzchean turned Harper around and glared into his eyes. "You do have fire in your blood...never forget that, little man."   
  
*****  
  
Margaret screamed in frustration. "It's impossible to get through here without a machete!"  
  
Her face and arms were covered in scratches from the thorns and branches in the very dense portion of the forest. In the matter of several hours, she had progressed less than a hundred meters. "I'm hungry, tired and hurt, but I can't very well get out of here," she complained.  
  
She pushed forward through the brambles and plants, hoping there would be an end to all of it soon. All she wanted at that moment was to find a village with a courier, send someone a message to get her off of this forsaken planet and collapse into a huddled mess on the floor.  
  
"What else can go wrong now?" she asked herself, each step being a fight with her body that simply wanted to rest.  
  
A growl from behind her seemed to answer her question. She turned her head to see a wolf in the brambles, staring menacingly at her.   
  
"Nice wolf..." She started slowly backing away and raised her hands in surrender. "See, I don't have anything to give you..."  
  
The wolf continued the throaty growl and advanced several steps. Margaret countered his advance and took several steps back, trying not to trip over the roots and whatnot behind her. "Please leave me alone...I've already been through quite enough today."  
  
The wolf's response to this was a leap forward onto Margaret. She screamed and tried to scramble away through the thicket. "Get off of me!" The wolf had a grasp on her leg, sinking teeth deep into her skin and causing searing pain to rip through her body. The scratches caused by the plants became unnoticed in light of the new pain.  
  
As the wolf was near pouncing on her torso, she felt herself back over a sharp rock. Even though it was strongly against her morals to kill, she slammed the sharp rock into the wolf's skull. A painful howl echoed through the forest as the wolf's blood mixed with her own. She brought the stone back and again slammed it into the wolf's skull, this time embedding it. The wolf lost consciousness and quickly died.  
  
Margaret fought the urge to cry at all that had happened. She dragged herself on her stomach through the thicket, knowing she could not ward off another attack. She knew her trail of blood was a dinner call to any and every carnivore in the forest.  
  
She finally spotted her salvation--the forest's end. It led into a small town. She kept dragging herself on her stomach, not even thinking about stopping. "I'm now the target of every thief and criminal in town," she mumbled to herself.  
  
When she had pulled herself into the town square, a wide-eyed woman approached her. "You've been attacked! Let me take you to the town doctor!"  
  
"No!" Margaret argued. "I want to see the town courier now!"  
  
"But you need a doctor and-"  
  
"No, I need the courier and then I'll consider visiting your doctor!" Margaret was persistent.  
  
"Our courier is in that building. At least let me help you get there," the woman said.  
  
Margaret accepted the kind woman's help and used her as a crutch to enter the courier's office.   
  
"What can I do for you?" the courier asked with his back turned. When he turned around, his tone changed to a more concerned one. "We need to get you to the doctor!"  
  
"No, I need to send a message!" Margaret insisted.  
  
"Let her send the message, Richard," the woman said.  
  
"The recording booth is right over there, and I'll deliver it with the rest of my load once you're done," Richard said.  
  
Margaret hopped into the booth and closed the door. The recording screen was reflective, showing her scratches and injuries, almost magnifying them. She entered the information she has memorized and pressed the record button. "Hi, Harper, it's me, Margaret. As you can see, I'm in a bit of a bind right now. I've just been through the worst day of my life." She reached down to wipe her leg and her hand came back bloodied, accidentally in the viewing screen. "I won't go into details, but you really don't have to worry about me. In case things don't improve, well I do care about you, too. And the fact you're thinking about me really does mean a lot." She began to feel woozy and focusing her vision became difficult. "Harper, I think I'd better go lay down or something. I really do care about you a lot, and I hope I get to see you again. Goodbye..." She passed out while the message was still recording, her head hitting the button to end it.  
  
*****  
  
Tyr's words had echoed through Harper's mind. It had been twelve hours since he heard them, but they were still as fresh as the second afterwards. "What good has this fire done me, Tyr?" Harper asked himself. "I've just spent the past day going crazy worrying about someone you think I want as a mate, but trust me Mister All-Mighty Nietzchean, she's just a friend...isn't she?"  
  
It had occurred to Harper that Tyr was seeing something he wasn't, even though Harper wouldn't admit it to himself that he could be wrong while Tyr was right. To pass the time, Harper had occupied himself with needless 'pursuit of humanity' upgrades for Rommie. She seemed happy with the attention and the new upgrades, and he was happy being distracted.  
  
"Harper, a courier just brought this data rod marked 'VERY URGENT.' I think you better go watch it," Beka said, handing him the unopened package containing the rod.  
  
"Thanks, Boss. I'll take it to my quarters right now," Harper said, running down to his quarters. He immediately assumed Margaret had chosen to reply to the message he had sent.  
  
He ripped the wrapping off of the data rod and carefully placed it in his communications console. A face he couldn't recognize, full of blood scratches, appeared on the screen. It was Margaret's voice that spoke. Harper felt his heart moving into his throat as she told him that she was having the worst day of her life. She moved her hand down to her leg, and it returned dripping with blood.  
  
"Oh my god! She's gonna die if she doesn't get that taken care of!" Harper said to himself as the message continued.   
  
Margaret repeated that she cared about him and that she hoped she'd be able to see him again. As she completed the message, she passed out.   
  
"There's no way she's going to survive that without the right medical equipment and stuff!" Harper was panicking. "And Dylan said we've gotta go to Eltauran first. Actually, he didn't say anything about anyone in particular..."  
  
Harper knew what he had to do and hurried out of his quarters, mindlessly leaving the data rod in his communications console. After making sure Trance wasn't in Medical Deck, he stopped there and picked up the appropriate supplies. He knew he was taking a risk, but he interfaced with Rommie and downloaded the information he needed.  
  
His next destination was the Hangar Deck. He boarded the Maru and managed to override Beka's codes, something she didn't know he could do. He was saving it for an emergency, and this was one if he'd ever seen one before. He opened the airlock and strapped himself in the slipstream piloting chair. "Here goes nothing..." 


End file.
